


Chosen's Domain

by twilighteve



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Amnesty (Podcast)
Genre: Chosen One, Gen, Trans Duck Newton, minerva just chooses whomever the planet chooses, the planet chooses the chosen ones before minerva did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22958080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilighteve/pseuds/twilighteve
Summary: The Chosen Ones had their destinies laid out for them: take up their weapon, study the blade, fight to protect. But long before their connection to Minerva was made obvious, the very planet chose them and loved them, and aided them in time of need.For Duck, it manifested as the forest molding itself to his whims. For Leo, the city he lived in reworked and rerouted its tunnels and roads and sewers to his benefits. But Minerva had nothing.Or, the lives of the Chosen Ones, and the one who chooses.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. Duck: Forest

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Denial of Destiny](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19162909) by [wereworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wereworm/pseuds/wereworm). 



Duck’s life was simple on the surface. As a park ranger he would go to the forest and check on trees and made sure there was no fire, where the forest would be giddy to greet his coming and sad to see him leaving. He would go to the office to meet his coworkers, with whom he kept good relationship with. After work he would go back to his small but well-kept apartment and greet his cat Otis, who he loved very much and who loved him back unconditionally.

(“You named your cat Otis?” Aubrey asked, once, when she visited. She quirked her brow in a way that conveyed _are you serious_ in all ways but words and Otis stared at her, haughtily unimpressed, before climbing to Duck’s shoulders and curling around his neck.

“It’s short for Pot Brownies,” Duck said.

Aubrey choked out on a giggle, and Ned laughed so hard he fell off the couch. Duck grinned and reached up to pet Otis, and she leaned it to his touch, purring contentedly.)

That simplicity, unfortunately, was only surface level.

Duck couldn’t even think about beginning to explain about Sylvain and the abominations, not to mention the whole Chosen One debacle. And also Beacon. He couldn’t think about how to explain Beacon.

The forest, though. He couldn’t give a single fuck about what people think when he looked at them, grin, and said, “The forest loves me.” He couldn’t give a single fuck, because the forest loving him was just a hard-cold fact, just as him loving the forest was the bare, simple truth.

He loved the forest, the forest loved him, abominations showed up every month just before full moon. Facts of life.

* * *

When Duck was little, he got lost in the forest.

At least, that was what the adults say. He didn’t feel lost, he just felt like playing around by himself and getting to know the forest that so readily gave him a road of dirt to walk on and a canopy from getting burned by the sun. He was getting to know the forest like a little kid would when he found a new friend. And the forest was happy to get to know him, letting flowers burst out from the ground and dropping pretty leaves around him. It would take Duck years to realize that the flowers were out of season, and forests didn’t just do whatever to just about anyone.

“There you are!” his mother would exclaim when she and Dad finally found him. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Don’t just disappear without telling anyone,” Dad said. “We were worried.”

“But I’m safe here,” Duck said. “The forest won’t let anything happen to me.”

“Sure, buddy.” Dad didn’t sound at the least beat comforted. He took Duck’s hand and pulled him gently, away from the gnarly foots of the trees Duck was hugging. “Let’s go home.”

Home was rows of trees and crunching leaves at the forest floor and the faint summer light hitting the tips of the green foliage. Home was not a small room with a bed and a dresser where he had to pretend to be someone else just to be considered valid. But Duck complied and went with Mom and Dad, meeting Jane in their car and spending ten minutes trying to stop her from crying.

When they got home, Duck took off his shoes and stared wide-eyed, bewildered. The sides of his shoes had been overtaken by moss, even though he didn’t really wander to the mossy part of the forest. It was as if the forest was trying to give Duck something to remember it by.

* * *

Dad brushed the moss off, and Duck couldn’t help but feel like a nice gift had just been taken away from him, like a kid whose favorite toy was wrenched out of his hands.

It didn’t matter, because every time they go to the forest moss grew on his shoes. Eventually, Dad just gave up.

* * *

There was a specific feeling that came with being in the forest. It was something that made Duck wanted to smile until his cheeks hurt, and then he’d smile some more. The feeling of safety and acceptance was unparalleled, and there he could run and climb all he wanted without worrying about being dainty and pretty and delicate. In the forest he could be as wild as he wanted and the forest would just ruffle his hair with a gentle breeze so long as he wasn’t harming anything.

He’d run and climb at home, too, if Mom didn’t look at him all sad whenever he chose shorts over skirts despite having said that he could be whatever he wanted as long as it made him happy.

* * *

The forest loved him and would give him gifts and granted him favors, but there was a limit over what it would do for Duck. It could warn him about a coming abomination that had set its eyes on him, but it couldn’t stop it from chasing Duck.

It couldn’t save a lost life, and so Ned was gone.

* * *

“Why did you choose me?” Duck asked Minerva, once. “I don’t want this.”

“I did not choose you, Duck Newton,” Minerva replied. “Earth chose you long before I did.”

“How the fuck does a planet choose someone?”

“I would not know, Duck Newton. But you _are_ chosen by the forest, aren’t you?”

Duck refused to go to the forest that weekend, but the longing for the green canopy above his head and the cool breeze gently ruffling his hair bubbled within him until his skin itched and he felt like bursting. The moment he was able to, he ran to the forest and laid at a clearing, breathing in the earth as budding blooms tickled his ears.

He didn’t want to be the Chosen One, but he wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

* * *

They walked through the forest, cutting the distance to get to H2Whoa so the Sylphs could get their quota of soaking. The plan to get the feds out of their hair buzzed incessantly in Duck’s mind, and he tried as hard as he could to focus on here and now. With Ned gone there was a hollow chunk in Duck’s heart that refused to be filled, but he was sure (he hoped, he _wished_ ) time would heal it enough to patch it over.

With loss came pain and with pain came petty stubbornness that he would not, he would _never_ , death claim anyone he cared about again, not if he could do something about it. So he worked on the overdrive trying to make sure his friends were safe, that the Sylphs were safe, that Aubrey was safe.

(His heart ached whenever he saw her, because they spent so much time with Ned that they were practically a unit. To have a third of one cohesive machinery was essentially the same as rendering it broken, but they were still here, still standing, and Duck planned to keep it that way.)

Indrid came with them, casually strolling just a step behind Duck. He stopped abruptly mid-stroll and looked vacantly into the horizon, and Duck turned to him.

“Is everything okay, ‘Drid?” he asked the mothman.

Indrid slowly turned to him, eyes blinking behind the red lenses of his eyeglasses. “It’s all okay, Duck Newton,” he answered. “I was just not prepared for a vision.”

Worry churned in Duck’s stomach. “What, is there some problem ahead? What do we do to stop it?”

Indrid chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing of sorts, Duck Newton. I was just surprised to see how the forest is inseparable from your future.”

Relief flooded Duck’s veins and made him temporarily winded, and he fought the urge to hug Indrid then and there. He wasn’t sure Indrid would appreciate that, but giving him a giddy grin filled to the brim with relief seemed to be a good enough compromise.

(The same thought circled in his mind, ringing without any sign of ever fading away. The forest would be with him, they won’t be separated, no one can take that away from him.)

* * *

Duck remembered being a teenager and coming out to his family, eyes trained solely to the moss patches on his shoes and reassuring himself that it was fine, it was fine, they loved him, they’d accept him for who he was, and even if they didn’t he’d always have the forest with him.

Jane’s reaction was to slap her thigh with gusto and yelled, “I knew it!” and hugged Duck tight while thanking him to trust her enough to tell. Mom and Dad were more subdued, and they struggled more with Duck’s identity, but they accepted him, and that was what mattered.

(Duck refused to think about how Mom would look at him sadly whenever she thought he wasn’t looking, about how she switched to _honey_ and _darling_ but didn’t use _Duck_ , not when she could help it.

Duck refused to admit that it hurt when she slipped still into _she_ instead of _he_ , refused to think about how Dad had gotten used to it so, so much faster and easier than she had, refused to see her in Duck’s childhood room longingly staring at the old childhood dresses still hung in a row inside the closet. He couldn’t help but wonder about why Mom acted like she had lost a child when he felt like he had found himself.)

* * *

The forest carves out new paths for Duck from time to time and erased it out as soon as he had stepped away from it. Hard ground softened for him and muddy earth hardened. Seeds stuck to the soles of his feet and grew on the roads he traveled, resulting in weed flowers dipping along the wind along the roads, and leaves and twigs stuck on his shirt and hat. All his shoes were at least _a bit_ mossy, and it grew up, up, up, and he had noticed that while his pants and shirts were always clean from them there was a small patch of moss that had begun to grow on his hat. Miraculously, the fabric was as fine as always, as if the moss didn’t affect it one bit.

His coworkers would memorize landmarks and have compasses with them, but Duck never brought one. They wondered and insisted he brought a compass at first, but eventually they just gave up.

Meanwhile, Duck just laughed. The idea of him losing his way in a forest was hilarious; the forest wouldn’t let him get lost. Even when he thought he was lost, the forest would just lead him someplace he should be, whether it was back to town, the Amnesty Lodge, or the goddamn gate to Sylvain.

* * *

He put his hand at the bark of the tree, breathed in, and let his thoughts wander until the forest could read his intentions as easily as he read the wind. It was never easy, for him to read the forest or for the forest to read him, but it became easier as time passed and the more Duck laid on the grass watching leaves fall until one day all he had to do is put his hand on a tree and the forest would understand.

“What’s he doing?” Aubrey muttered behind him.

“He’s trying to communicate with the forest,” Leo easily explained.

“He can do that?” Aubrey’s voice was laced with surprise, and Duck honestly couldn’t blame her. He shook the thought away and focused to the forest, wishing protection to his whole group and misdirection to abominations.

“All Chosens have something,” Minerva said. “Duck Newton just happens to have the forest.”

“He’s got it good. All I had was the sewers, rats, and roaches.”

There was an audible shift as Aubrey moved away from Leo. “Ew, what.”

“That’s not true, Leo Tarkesian! The whole city bent to your will!”

“It didn’t bend to my will, it just helped me out from time to time.”

“The forest doesn’t commune with me and I’ve been living here practically my whole life,” Thacker muttered quietly.

There was a response from the forest, and even though Duck still couldn’t understand it perfectly he correctly translated it into agreement. He took his hand off the tree and turned, looking at Thacker. “To be fair, I don’t think the forest can commune with anyone else. It _does_ like you, though.”

“You just did though,” Aubrey pointed out.

“It’s different. I’m Chosen.” Duck shrugged. For him, that explained everything. He had a connection with Minerva because he was Chosen. He had Beacon because he was Chosen. He could communicate with the forest because he was Chosen.

“In any case, can you guarantee, one hundred percent, that we will be safe?” Barclay asked. “We can’t afford any risks here. If there is any chance at all of this failing, we have to find another way.”

“Oh, it’ll work,” Duck assured. He grinned at Barclay. “Don’t worry. The forest will help us.”

“You sure?” Barclay wrung his hands together. Duck could see stress lines along his face, framing his eyes like old rivers scratched deep into the earth.

“Positive,” Duck answered without missing a beat. His smile widened, and even though the whole debacle with abominations and his visions made him nervous he was filled to the brim with confidence that this part of his plan would work perfectly. “Don’t worry about it. The forest loves me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this a while ago, maybe a little before amnesty ended. i didn't post it because i was mulling on what title i could give it... and then i forgot about it, because of course.
> 
> this was inspired by wereworm's Denial of Destiny, and the idea of the forest choosing Duck was so charming for me that it latched on like someone tacked it into my head with superglue. and if Duck has the forest, hey, other Chosens got to have something, too, right?


	2. Leo: City

When Leo said he only had the sewers, rats, and roaches, that was a lie.

He had the entire city under his feet ready to help him when he needed it. Back alleys were never dangerous to him. Shortcuts manifested whenever he needed, though admittedly most often in the form of sewers. Sewers redirected its course when he walked in it and he would reach his destination far earlier than he would expect. The stubborn smell of dirty water never stuck to his clothes – in fact, he was never wet from dirty water. The critters in the sewers gave him a wide berth, and whenever he was in a pinch they would pounce on whatever threatened his life.

Little Leo would never believe it if he said he’d come to appreciate rats and roaches, but hey, life’s full of surprises.

* * *

The first time Leo ventured into the sewers, it was when he was twelve. It was also not out of his own volition.

He wasn’t the most popular kid. One day he fell into an uncovered manhole, and his classmates decided pulling the cover on his head was the funniest thing in the whole world. It didn’t matter that Leo yelled and pleaded until his throat hurt and his voice hoarse.

The only way he could go was down, so that was where he went. He swallowed his tears and sniffles and walked through the sludge, trying to remember which way was home so he could get there without getting lost, briefly wondering how he’d be able to open the manhole later.

The unmistakable sound of his neighbor’s dog barking and his father’s old car wafted from the manhole cover just above him, and he looked up with a start. He was sure he hadn’t even spent more than five minutes. Was he really already home?

He pushed the manhole cover, and to his delight it lifted easily. He slid it away and climbed up, looking around his neighborhood in relief.

It was still weird that he got back so quickly, but he was lucky not to get lost, lucky to not get smelly, lucky to not have weird slime or sludge stuck to his shoes, so he wasn’t complaining. He pulled the manhole cover back to its place and dashed home to wash off.

* * *

The second time Leo went to the sewers was by his own volition. It was barely a week after the first time he got into the sewers, that brief experience sparked his curiosity enough to venture more. He brought the map of New York to estimate where he was and where he should go to.

As it turned out, he didn’t need the map.

The tunnels warped itself to accommodate his needs as soon as he thought of it. Now that he was looking for a sign of sorts, he could see how the sewers shifted and changed, cutting his distance short and letting him get to his destination quickly. It reminded Leo of stories about children getting taken in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.

He turned around and went home, telling himself that he was never going to go down again.

* * *

The third time Leo went to the sewers was two months after the first time he went down, and he was in a dire need of a shortcut because he had test at school soon but he woke up late and missed his bus.

He slipped into the sewers with a curse, barely having it in his mind to cover the manhole back up. It slid hilariously easily when he pulled it close with one hand, his mind elsewhere. He barely even thought about _where_ he should run to, where he should make a turn and to which direction. All he knew was that he was suddenly overcome with the feeling of _he’s here, he’s here, he’s arrived_ and pushed the nearest manhole cover up. He was right behind the school.

Once he was back in the surface he pulled the manhole cover back on and rushed to class just in time for the bell to ring. Later he would wonder how he could run around in the sewers and still smelled like the detergent his mother used for the family’s laundry, how he could get there quickly, how easily it was to run around in the sewers and not get lost.

He didn’t understand it, but he liked it.

* * *

Mom didn’t like that he kept going to the sewers for a shortcut.

It never stopped him.

* * *

The first time Leo found an abomination, he was fifteen. He was lurking in the sewers as per usual and saw a bunch rats skittishly running away from a tunnel.

Which was weird. The rats were never concerned about anything, as far as Leo knew. Curiosity won him over and he tiptoed to the tunnel to see what had scared the rats. He didn’t like them, not really, but the sewers was their home and he wanted to know what was wrong.

He stopped dead in his tracks and almost screamed.

There was a big… something… that looked like an overgrown cat about as big as a car that was eating rats. Bloody bones and fur scattered around it. The thing’s fur was ragged and dirty, ears too big and eyes too narrow, too red. Its claws ripped open a dead rat’s neck and it bit greedily.

Leo gulped and backed away, trying not to catch its attention. He stepped wrong and his foot sloshed into water.

The thing snapped up and turned to face him. Leo stared wide-eyed and let out a ragged breath, and when the thing realized he was alive it pounced.

Leo turned and ran. The cat thing chased after him.

The tunnels blurred into lines as he tried to get away from the thing. He let his feet bring him wherever, and for the first time, underneath the fear and the kick of adrenaline muffling his thoughts other than _get away_ , he could feel the tunnels shift to accommodate his needs. He felt the nudge to make a turn all of a sudden and he complied, barely dodging the cat thing’s claw ripping his skull open.

He pushed through the tunnels, ignoring the cat thing’s yowls and hisses. When he got to an intersection, he followed the nudge beneath his feet to go left and dashed to see a train tracks underneath his feet. An urgency rushed into his head and he jumped ahead and crossed the tracks and pressed his back to the wall behind him. There was a roaring growl but he didn’t know if it was the cat thing or something else. Bright light by his right kept getting brighter and more focused but his vision tunneled to stare at the cat thing while his body froze in the cat’s yellow glare.

The cat jumped at him,

and was promptly hit by the upcoming train.

Leo stared until the train had long since passed, frozen in place, and all of a sudden he came to a sudden snap of realization that he was safe now. He walked back into the sewers and trudged back home, got into his room, and sank to the floor crying.

* * *

When Minerva first appeared in front of him it was barely a month after he saw the monster in the sewers. He jumped when her booming voice called to him, and he stared when she began to talk about all the Chosen shit and abominable crap and thought, “Well fuck, I already saw one of them and it’s terrifying.”

When Minerva left, Leo was fully prepared to chalk it up as residual shock and go to sleep. But then she appeared again the next day, and all he could say was, “Oh fuck, you’re real.”

Minerva was a glowy silhouette, but Leo was able to see her confusion anyway. She tilted her head to one side and said, “Yes? At what point did I say I am not real, Leo Tarkesian?”

Leo ignored her in lieu of having another earthshattering realization. “Oh _fuck_ , that thing I saw in the sewers was real.” He turned to Minerva. “ _That_ was an Abomination?”

“Well, I did not see this thing you are talking about, but if you are reacting like this, that is a possibility.”

“What the – are you saying I have to fight one of those?”

Minerva looked hilariously offended, considering she was a silhouette. “No!” she said. “Not unarmed, at least. There is a Chosen weapon for you, Leo Tarkesian, waiting somewhere you are familiar with. If you have it in your hands, you will have a better chance at fighting.”

“What the hell? I’m not fighting one of those. I’m not taking the weapon!”

* * *

Leo took the weapon.

It was stuck at the concrete where the sewers ended and the sea started. He pulled it out as if he was King Arthur, pulling the sword in the stone into his possession. There was even the golden glow of sunset as his background. The only downside was he was literally ankle deep in sewage sludge, and there was no going around it. Other than that it was all so dramatic and shit. Minerva would be proud, he thought.

* * *

It didn’t take long for Leo to realize that most people didn’t know about the Abominations, and therefore couldn’t keep themselves safe. How do you defend yourself against a foe you didn’t even know existed?

So he took the broadsword, gave a long sigh, and started fighting.

* * *

Leo hadn’t thought about the possibility of other people finding out about his ‘extracurricular activity’. Now that he’d done the gig for a while, he realized he probably should have thought more about it. Especially since he had very literally run into someone he knew.

He was walking at a quiet neighborhood and slipped into an alley for a shortcut, knowing the city would easily bend space for him. When he emerged from the alley he wasn’t in the street he knew the alley led to – he wasn’t even in the same area – but somewhere near school. He was just wondering why the city would lead him here when he heard someone screaming.

He dashed there, sword at the ready. He saw an Abomination – large black thing that looked like a tree and a squid married and got a kid. It reached out with its branches and vines and wrapped them around a bench and launched it at a guy.

Oh shit. That was Jeremy Brown. He wasn’t exactly the nicest kid around but Leo didn’t like him and he hated Leo’s guts.

Leo rammed himself into Jeremy’s midsection and launched them both out of the bench’s trajectory. It crashed against the pavement.

“Wh – “ Jeremy sputtered. “Tarkesian?”

“Run!” Leo yelled, pulling Jeremy to his feet. Both ran, but the Abomination, fast despite its shape, let another vine slither and wrap around their ankles and yanked. Leo fell and internally thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t bite his tongue off. Without much thought, he took out his sword and cut himself and Jeremy loose. He decided then and there that defeating the Abomination was high in his priority list, so he ran ahead and let his sword cut into the tree thing’s bark. It was soft and cut easily, but it mended itself almost instantly, and Leo realized he had no chance of defeating it now. He turned and grabbed Jeremy, running away into the back alleys and let the city bring them into safety.

Once they were safe within the bustling crowd, Jeremy whirled to him. “What the fuck was that?”

Leo winced. “Uh. A squid?”

“We’re miles from the sea!” Jeremy rubbed his face with his palm. “Also, it looked like a tree. That wasn’t a squid. Why do you have a sword?”

“Um.” Leo glanced at his sword and tried to shift it behind his legs.

“I can still see it!”

“Look,” Leo said, giving up trying to hide the sword. “The thing is, that thing is dangerous. And, uh, I’ve got experience with similar things – “

“You have _experience_ with _similar things_?!”

“ – and I know I’ll be able to deal with that one too, probably. But it’ll be dangerous, so maybe it’s best if you go home.”

“No shit!” Jeremy spat as he gnashed his teeth together. “What do I do to help you?”

Leo blinked. “You’re helping me?”

Jeremy snorted. “That thing tried to bash my head against the pavement. I want to return the favor.” He glanced to the streets. “It looked like a tree. Do you think herbicide can kill it?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth trying.”

Apparently, Jeremy’s uncle ran a gardening business and had access to weed killer. The Abomination was defeated after Jeremy dumped a barrel of herbicide on it and Leo cut it down to size.

“Good riddance,” was all Jeremy said about that.

They never really talked to each other again after that, much less discuss about the Abomination and how they defeated it together. But Jeremy gave him a berth after that, and they exchanged small nods whenever they passed each other in the halls, which was good enough for Leo.

* * *

The years of fighting blurred together in Leo’s mind. It seemed like it was too much of an effort to try to keep track when he already knew Abominations would appear when the moon started to grow gibbous. He knew he was lucky; he’d lost his leg, but he still got to keep his life. He knew others couldn’t claim the same.

He was tuckered at a corner of the city, safely tucked in a spot without prying camera surveillance and away from the sewers for once. The abomination before him was small but sprightly, running about underfoot and making it hard for him to stab it dead. He didn’t even know what it looked like, just that it was depressingly grey and had appendages that didn’t belong to animals that size and shape.

As he managed to stab it, there was a lurch in his stomach and he knew, as surely as he knew he was alive, that he wasn’t _alone_ anymore. Minerva confirmed it as such when she appeared before him the next time.

“Leo Tarkesian!” she called, voice just as booming as usual. “I am here to inform you that a new Chosen has been… well, chosen!”

“Okay…” he twiddled his thumbs over each other. “What does that make me?”

“Why, you are still Chosen!” Minerva answered. She hunched a little, and for once she looked sheepish. “I’ll have to admit, I am at a loss. I have never had two Chosen at once before. But Earth has chosen another, and so I will choose him as well.”

“Yeah, I guess I _am_ getting old, too,” Leo admitted, as much as it hurt him to. He wasn’t as spry as before, and he knew that. “Who’s the newbie?” At Minerva’s apparent confusion, he clarified, “The new Chosen, I mean.”

“His name is Duck Newton,” Minerva answered, “I have been informed that it is a nickname. He hails from Kepler, West Virginia, and he’d been chosen by the forest surrounding his town.” She straightened. “If you are willing, I wish you’d come to Kepler and guide him.”

“…uh?”

“The temporary gate that opened here has closed,” Minerva explained. “No more abomination will appear here. Kepler, however, has a permanent gate. You won't see any more Abomination here, Leo Tarkesian, and you will be much more needed there than here.”

Leo mulled it over. “So instead of letting me retire, you want me to haul my ass up to Kepler, leave everything I have behind, and mentor some kid I don’t even know.”

“I understand it is a large favor I am asking,” Minerva said. “I will not hold it against you if you refuse. However, Chosens tend to die off young, to the point that there was never before two Chosens at once. If you’d help him, his chances of living would – “ The connection cut off, and Minerva disappeared.

* * *

Leo was… pissed. He was told he no longer needed to do what he had been doing in his city and he should just move to god knows where. He’d checked where Kepler was. What would he even do in some backwater town that was so small he nearly couldn’t find it on the map?

(It could be worse, he guessed. At least it was _on the map_.)

He was staying where he was. He wouldn’t move, not for some snotty kid who he didn’t know.

* * *

He unpacked the boxes of his stuff at the new apartment in Kepler with a sigh. Beside him, Minerva was beaming.

* * *

Kepler was so very, very different, but the way it treated him was surprisingly familiar.

The town still helped him, even though he knew the forest’s love for Duck was far greater than the town’s affection for him. It still cut corners, limiting distances, softening the ground for him to walk on. It still helped him coming and going without tiring himself, and the animals still helped him from time to time, but it was no New York.

He missed New York, sometimes, but this small town and the small store he ran was what he chose for himself, and he loved the clear air and quiet streets and tight-knit community. He liked it enough to learn to love it, the quiet life and quiet store and the customers he eventually came to know by name and heart. The lack of fighting was odd at first, but it was a very welcome change.

It was kind of annoying that the kid he was supposed to be watching over kept running away from his supposed fate, but oh well. At least he took the sword. Small steps, he supposed.

All in all, Leo knew he was lucky. He was alive and mostly whole, he led a quiet life in a quiet town with a warm community that readily accepted him, he could learn to love his life.

He could work with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's Leo's turn this time! i checked the wiki a while back, it seems like he's from new york?? i figured he'd have the urban areas, and i was inspired by the sewer system shown in The Amazing Spider-Man (Andrew Garfield's, bless his soul) but i figured it would be like... a lot grosser.
> 
> my headcanon is that kepler isn't the only place where abominations appear. sometimes temporary gates and portals just pop out wherever and abominations can appear there too.
> 
> also, i made a previous chosen one OC for this fic. her chapter's going to be uploaded after this one, before minerva's.


	3. Marina: Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter features a slew of original characters. the focus is on an OC Chosen One.
> 
> chapter warning on character death, in that the Chosen oc dies in the end. you've been warned.

As someone who was born and raised by the sea, Marina always found her name funny. When she woke up in the morning, the first thing she saw was the sea. Whenever she walked to school, the ocean waves was the music in her ears. Whenever she ate, it was always something from sea. Whenever she slept at night, the last thing she saw was the sea. Her name meant _of the sea_.

It was so painfully obvious that her life was intertwined with the sea. She took it as a sign of her fate and embraced it fully.

* * *

Marina didn’t remember when she learned to swim. All her life, she always knew the sea, and swimming was a second nature, something that sometimes felt even more natural than walking. Water was a constant in her life, and swimming – well, it just came along with water.

She made it a point to run to the sea and plunge right into the blue, only coming up to breathe before diving in once more. She loved the sea as much as she loved her father, her mother, her grandparents, her friends. She loved the sea so much she felt like she would burst. After all, the sea was always there for her, so it only made sense that she would love it so.

What she didn’t realize at first – and was delighted to find later – was that the sea loved her back, maybe even more than she loved it. Pretty shells peeked out of the sand when she walked down the beach, soft waves nipping at her heels instead of the harsh slaps her friends received, floating and moving in the sea that came so much easier to her than other swimmers. It was as if the sea itself helped her move along faster.

She remembered, when she was a kid, it saddened her that she couldn’t breathe underwater. She trained herself to be able to hold her breath longer and longer so she could spend her time with the sea more without needing to break to the surface for air, and soon she could swim easily without needing to breathe for longer, and longer, but never long enough.

After her mother searched for her in a fit of panic and had her father fish her out after she dove underwater for over four minutes, she trained herself to keep track of time when she was out with her family and to surface after three minutes at most. She waved her mother’s fussing and her father’s scolding, soothing their worries with a smile and a promise to come up for air before she choked on water in a desperate attempt to breathe without the medium to do so and to make sure she didn’t dive too deep to avoid running out of air.

(She didn’t tell anyone how deep she dived when she was alone, when she oared her own boat into the great blue to spend time with the ocean. She didn’t tell anyone how water pressure was never an issue, as diving three meters or thirty didn’t make any difference. She didn’t tell anyone how diving for so long wasn’t a problem, running out of air wasn’t even on the table – the sea would bring her to the surface to breathe the moment it sensed her chest tighten, long before she even tried to swim up to the sun. She didn’t tell anyone she had long since lost count on how long she could stay underwater before her lungs screamed for air.

They were all her secrets with the sea.)

* * *

She was the best rower in their small community of seafarers, able to manage her oars like the best flutist could play her instrument. It was only natural that she would be asked to teach the young ones to oar, to steer their boats, to learn how to read and ride the waves and safely return home. She was happy to accept the task, and soon she had the little ones sailing safely under her watchful eyes.

And yet, they all wonder. No matter how good they get, how skillful they could row, they could never be as fast as her, never could go as far as she could in a single push of her oar. She would laugh and tell them it would come to them in time.

It was a lie.

She could teach them to oar and to sail and to swim as best as she could, and they could be better at oaring and sailing and swimming than her, but they’d never be as fast and as far as she could get. She could teach them to love the sea they way she loved it, but the sea would never love them back the way it loved her.

* * *

Minerva appeared before her when she was seventeen, when she was sailing out much farther than her parents would ever allow her, at least when she was on her own. She was far enough that even the lighthouse at the cliff looked small against the soft skyline.

She had been patting the surface of the water when idea struck, and she wondered if she could. Tentatively, she put her feet on the surface of the water, took a deep breath, and stood.

The sea understood her intent and was more than willing to comply; the water bore her weight instead of swallowing her feet and before she knew it she had stood on water, grinning giddily, silently thanking the sea for the gift it had given her.

“Marina Charyds!” it was then that Minerva’s booming voice cut through the relative calm of the ocean, easily beating the sound of the water slapping against her boat. “I am here to inform you that you have a destiny upon your hands, and it is something you must accept!”

Marina had been so startled she lost her footing. It had been the first time she fell into water with such a painful splash, as if the sea was as surprised as she had been.

* * *

It had been easy for Marina to accept the destiny Minerva told her about.

It hadn’t been as easy for the ocean.

The ocean was old, that much was a given. Marina wasn’t the first Chosen it had bonded with, and it had seen Chosen Ones fall, again and again. It didn’t go against Marina’s decision to take her weapon, but it didn’t try to help her, either.

The weapon sat at the bed of the sea, waiting for her to take it to the surface.

It was the first time in her life Marina ever felt that swimming was hard. For the first time, she understood what _water pressure_ meant, how hard it was to dive downwards when the sea didn’t assist her, how hard it was to see when the water refused to bend light _just right_ so the dark waters was bright enough, how much it hurt to yearn for air that just wasn’t there. It wasn’t without difficulty, but at last she managed to let her fingers wrapped around her weapon, and the sea immediately wrapped her in a hug – as best as liquid could hug solid – and took her up to breathe. There, as she gulped air greedily, she hugged back, as best as knitted muscles and flesh could hug the expanse that surrounded her.

She lifted her weapon. The staff was long and sleek, dark blue in color like the sea in midnight. The three-pronged tip gleamed in fading sunlight, catching Marina’s eyes with its bronze finish, and she brushed her fingers against the metal.

She smiled and took the trident home. It sat in her room, and whenever her family asked where she got it from she would give them a wink, saying, “It’s a gift from the sea.”

It wasn’t, but it was easier than telling them about the nature of the weapon and the things she had to fight with it.

* * *

Mom and Dad had pushed her, multiple times, to get a boyfriend. They’d set up meetings to handsome boys and competent young men, who could easily rival her skills with boats and oars if she didn’t have the ocean with her every step of the way.

She always rolled her eyes and told them no. After all, she loved the sea far more than she could ever love any man, and the sea returned her affection. It just seemed unfair to her lover if she ditched him for the waves.

* * *

The first time Marina found an abomination, it was under the light of waxing gibbous moon, down in the ocean when she sneaked out to dive underwater. It held the form of a rotting mermaid larger than Marina herself, who left a trail of black ooze in the water as it swam gracelessly.

It wasn’t that easy to kill the abomination, but with the sea helping her she managed to. She spent the rest of the night crying, telling the ocean over and over again that mermaids weren’t meant to look so evil and disgusting, and the sea wasn’t meant to be polluted.

* * *

She asked Minerva, once, what abominations actually were.

She couldn’t see her face, but she was sure Miverva was smiling sadly. “All I can tell you is that it seeks to destroy humanity, Marina Charyds,” she said. “Perhaps we can talk more about it when I am not as pressed for time. Now, show me your trident-bearing stance.”

Marina never asked again, after that.

* * *

The fact that Marina was a Chosen was something she kept under wraps and kept tight. It was hers to know, and no one else’s.

So when Kai found out, she didn’t exactly know how to react.

* * *

It was another outing Dad had set up, and Marina knew that the countdown to another young man to appear was just beginning. Dad had always kept the same formula; bring her to a nice restaurant, have her eat something nice, then pretend the man he was trying to introduce to her was someone who just happened to be there, what a coincidence!

So she just ordered a steak – nice break from all the fish and shells she was eating on the regular – and waited until the man appeared.

Kai did, and as usual Dad then disappeared to let Marina chat with the date of the day.

As dates go, it wasn’t the worst. Kai was a nice man who was willing to listen and didn’t talk over her. They both made it clear that they realized Dad was trying to set them up, and he made it clear that he was fine with her not wanting to go through with it. He told her that he was content being friends and that it was enough.

That was strangely touching for Marina, and she teared up a bit. Kai, seeing this, instantly panicked and tried to cheer her up with a slice of cake.

* * *

Grandma’s first love wasn’t Grandpa.

Grandma’s first love had been a dashing young man, she’d told Marina. He was one of the best sailors she had ever known, and many young women vie for his attention. Grandma had wistfully told Marina that she had been the lucky one that he set his eyes upon.

She would tell her about his bright eyes and soft smiles, and how he had fingers nimble enough to weave ropes from seaweed that rivaled even the elders’ crafts. She would tell her about how good he was at sailing, how he was such a dashing seafarer, how his skill to steer his boat was unparalleled.

She would tell her about how he went sailing one day, and how the sea turned violent in an instant, and how he’d never found his way back.

“The sea claimed him,” Grandma would say. “Every time you go out and sail on your own, I remember how he never came back.”

And Marina would understand why Grandma married Grandpa. He had been dashing too, Grandma had assured, and she knew for a fact he had been an accomplished sailor who could read the sea better than anyone she knew, but after a sailing accident that took one of his legs he had never gone sailing again in his life.

* * *

She was out in the sea at dawn, fighting yet another abomination. It was an amorphous blob this time, floating on the water ominously, and Marina ran about trying to stab it.

Kai saw, rolled the abomination over with his boat, stared at her, and said, very passionately, “Mari, _what the fuck_?”

She told him everything, and he took it surprisingly well. Soon he was readily covering for her and helped her defeat the more challenging abominations, shooting things up with his harpoon and bagging home more than just fish. She was pretty sure Dad was smugly believing they were dating for real. She brought it up to him, one time.

“I just don’t think it’s fair for you if we decide to date,” she explained. “I won’t love you the way people would expect me to.”

“It’s okay,” he assured, “I don’t expect you to love me that way.”

It was nice, to know that he had her back, and to know he was more than willing to help her, no strings attached.

And then an abomination drowned him. It was something kraken-like, and Marina managed to defeat it, somehow, and dove in after him. But the sea didn’t love him the way it loved her, and she had to beg, beg, beg for it to help them surface.

He didn’t die, but his heart stopped for a while. When he woke, it was with mobility and memory problems, and she knew immediately that it was her fault. If she had been more careful, if she had been stronger, if she had protected him somehow…

They kept hanging out together, chatting and joking. But he could never go to the sea again, and she could never muster the courage to bring him closer to the water.

She vowed, then and there, that _she_ was the Chosen One. It was her burden to bear, and she would never let anyone get hurt under her watch again.

* * *

The first time she fought an abomination without Kai’s help after his accident, Marina found the fight so hard she had to rely on the sea’s help to defeat it.

She had never felt so lonely being the Chosen One before.

* * *

Marina remembered, before her grandfather passed in his sleep, he used to nag to her about diving too deep. As an experienced sailor, he had seen people dive and return as corpses, or not return at all.

“I’m telling you, seashell,” he would say as he ran his aged fingers through her sun-bleached hair and let his hand rest on her sun-baked skin, “one of these days you will dive too deep and the sea current will drag you away from us. The sea has claimed so many sailors. Don’t let yourself be another boon for the sea to win.”

She would laugh and reassure him, telling him that it was okay, she knew to stay out of trouble, she knew to take care of herself. Grandpa would sigh, hug her close, close, close, and muttered a prayer too soft for her to hear, begging for safety for her.

She didn’t tell him that the sea would let her breathe and the currents would only bring her home.

* * *

The rotting whale was larger than she thought it would be, and faster than its fins would ever allow it to be, and more vicious than it had any right to be. It was hard to get her trident to hit, let alone hit in the right place.

Not for the first time, she missed Kai’s quick work with the harpoon and his seemingly impossible aim. She smothered the thought away before it engulfed the forefront of his mind.

The brief distraction prove to be enough for the abomination. It struck before Marina could prepare herself, and all she could do was to make sure it received as much damage as possible just as she received the same. The hit she landed proved critical, and the whale let out a screech as it fell back to the abyss. Marina watched as it bled rotting black into the water, as the black formed ribbons as the abomination drifted away. She watched, watched, as red slowly stained the endless blue around her and she slowly lost feelings in her limbs.

Her chest was starting to tighten, but she couldn’t muster the strength to get back to the surface. The sea didn’t try to push her up, either, like it knew it was too late.

No, that was a lie. They both knew it was too late.

For the first time in her life, Marina felt bone-chillingly cold, and alone, and afraid, even though she knew she was safe with the ocean.

The sea embraced her.

For the first time in her life, Marina understood what it was like to sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is basically me noticing there isn't any featured Chosen who is also a girl and wanting one. then, after realizing being Chosen is p dangerous, i went all "but listen... what if Leo's a lucky one and the other Chosens all p much died in the line of duty"
> 
> which is why marina dies at the end


	4. Minerva: Earth

The Chosen Ones had their destinies laid out for them: take up their weapon, study the blade, fight to protect. But long before their connection to Minerva was made obvious, the very planet chose them and loved them, and aided them in time of need.

For Duck, it manifested as the forest molding itself to his whims. For Leo, the city he lived in reworked and rerouted its tunnels and roads and sewers to his benefits. For Marina, the sea hugged her and sang her lullabies.

Minerva… Minerva had nothing.

She had something, too, once. She had a planet that stood tall against the golden sun. She had rows upon rows of crystalline buildings that glimmered like rainbow when hit by light _just right_. She had pastel skies and neon trees and she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the whole world.

And then catastrophe struck, and then she had nothing. Only empty buildings and dead trees and later, much later, after dozens of Chosens from Earth that she had somehow established connection with, a pile of rubble. And later still, after she opened the wormhole to get to Earth, she truly had nothing from her own home.

And yet.

And yet, Duck had readily opened his home to provide for her and Aubrey Little. He had, very clearly, insisted on sharing what he had with her – home, food, comfort. He hadn’t even hesitated to share his forest with all of his friends.

Minerva had nothing from her home planet. She no longer had a planet that stood tall against the golden sun, she no longer had rows upon rows of crystalline buildings that glimmered like rainbow, she no longer had pastel skies and neon trees.

But right before her eyes Duck had laid out his home and his town and his forest to share. He had shared the town and it’s recently-filled sinkhole, the long empty roads, the apartment complexes. He led her to his green forest and let her bask in the fresh air, staring at moss and picking up pinecones.

“I mean, you live here now, right?” he had said, when she asked why he was so ready to show everything to her. “So that means all of this is yours too.”

Minerva had nothing from her home planet anymore, but maybe, just maybe, she can accept lush green forest and questionably filled sinkholes and too-empty roads. Maybe, just maybe, she can learn to love Earth just as she had loved Miralaviniax.

And Minerva had always been good at learning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick one for minnie. i kinda wonder sometimes what she feels, leaving her home and living on earth. it's short but it got the job done, i think.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for sticking around. hope you enjoyed it, and have a great day!


End file.
